Continuity
by A. Linnea Elindor
Summary: A grieving lover takes matters into his own hands (assumes facts in evidence: books 1-5)
1. Continuity: Beautiful Disaster

Title: Continuity

Author: A. Linnea Elindor

Summary: A grieving lover takes matters into his own hands

Disclaimer: These character's do not belong to me in any way, shape or form, with the exception of the storyline I've just put them in. I do not make any money off of this, so J.K. Rowling, WB Entertainment, and assorted publishing houses take note.

  
  
  
  


She died within my arm's reach.

  


I dug for 56 hours straight, never tiring in my pursuit to find her. When most of the rescue team and the volunteers, wizard and muggle alike, had quit, I burrowed deep beneath the rock and metal. My hands cut up to ribbons by the sharp edges, my skin burnt from pockets of hot air, and my wand useless in the heavy field of magic, I dug until I could not tell the sky from the rock beneath. 

  


After 56 hours, I found her hand behind a piece of charred wood. Her engagement ring still twinkled despite the dim light. 

  


I took in all the air I could, welcoming the charcoal dust, dirt and fumes into my lungs so long as they brought oxygen, and screamed her name. Screamed and screamed, my throat coated so thickly with coal that I could hardly move my vocal cords. I screamed past the sting, past the abject pain until I felt a tiny squeeze. 

  


The fingers moved so slightly that I had thought it wasn't real, but it was there again. It was weaker, but it was still there. I dug a bit more out, and found a graceful arm attached to the hand, and then a shoulder. Finally, curls of brown hair poked out of a pocket of air. Blood dried deep brick red across her brow and left eye, and her chin looked more tilted to the right than usual, but as beautiful and defiant as ever. 

  


Pressed against her chest was a panel of concrete that seem to stretch into unimaginable eternity. I whispered her name into her hand, stretching my free arm into the small track I had cleared into her space. Only the very edge of my wrist entered the air space- my fingers twirled to reach her, any piece of her. I pulled my arm out, dug out a bit more and peered down the tunnel the size of a tea saucer. 

  


Her lips moved slightly, and her right eye fluttered against her cheekbone. I love you, she mouthed, and again I was graced with a light squeeze of my hand. 

  


'Oy, who's down there?' 

  


A light of hope beamed a circular spot to the right of my outstretched body.

  


'Come quick, I've found her, she's ali...' 

  


But the hand had already gone limp and cold, bathed in the blood of my short triumph. I looked back down the tunnel and called her name again. Again and again, louder and louder. She didn't stir. Louder and louder, over and over, hands pulling my legs, dragging me to the surface as she slipped from my grasp. 

  


I don't remember when I had stopped screaming, but I must have. I opened my eyes and found my head on a pillow, my body buried in linen and feathers. Hermione lay next to me, the down comforter over both our heads and the ivory-filtered glow lighting her skin perfectly. Her eyes were bright and her lips were curved into that knowing and slightly condescending smile that I loved on her. The light champagne shift she wore fell to every curve and it was as if every moment I had seen her before was only a facet, only a part of the perfection. She was perfect and for the first time, I could see the whole of her, like a diamond that had been buried in the rough with only a few spots glittering. She had been unearthed.

  


I opened my eyes and found my head on a pillow, my body buried in white cotton sheets. Bent into the easy chair in the corner, Harry balanced his head precariously on his shoulder. His head turned half away from me. 

  


_Blood dried deep brick red across her brow and left eye, and her chin looked more tilted to the right than usual, but as beautiful and defiant as ever_

I gasped, my stomach heaving in time to the clench of my heart. I popped up in bed and held my mouth in hopes gravity would help as my head spun. A touch fell on my shoulders and melted into a hug, thin arms wrapped in sinewy muscle latched across my chest. The shadow of his tears on the back of my neck sent me into wave after wave of grief. Our tears soaked through the cotton sheets as he hugged across my back and I clutched my mouth.

  


Two days later, I found my way to the basement of the hospital St. Agnes. Harry walked next to me, watching as I walked. The bandages around my hands masked all the injuries I had sustained and padded them when I pushed the door open. A long, silent corridor met us and Harry took my hand. He led me down a row of doors, stopping at the 3rd last to turn the handle. Some one called after us, but Harry took care of her as I peered through the open doorway. 

  


Hermione lay motionless on the hospital bed, tubes and wires connected in and out of her paper skin and pallid lips. Compressions and blips echoed in the dead room, and her mother stood near the wavy-line machine crying into the arms of her husband. He noticed me first and whispered something gently into her ear. She looked up from her daughter and caught my eye. She left her husbands arms, walked around the bed and collapsed against me, her arms thrown around me shoulders. I would have fell the floor, but Harry had mysteriously reappeared and caught my shoulders, straightened me out. Hermione's mother released me and spilled onto Harry. 

  


I walked to Hermione and brushed my wrapped fingers against her lips and traced the tube that connected to one of the machines from them. 

  


'That's breathing for her.' 

Hermione's father's voice, gravelly and soft said. I looked up at him and he picked up his daughter's hand and ran a gentle touch over the IV. 

  


'This is giving her medicine and fluids.' 

  


He traced a few thin wires that led beneath the hospital gown to her chest. 

  


'These count her heartbeats.' 

  


He traced a few more that poked from beneath the thin cotton sheet. His breath hitched and he spoke with great difficulty.

  


'And these count the baby's.'

  


* * *

  
  


Author's Note: This is me testing the waters a bit. I'll post the next 2 chapters over the next couple of days to see if there is any interest, cause if not, then I'll just resume my eating Dulce de Leche by the teaspoon and studying. Thanks for reading!


	2. Continuity: Research, Ginny, and the Gra...

Title: Continuity

Author: A. Linnea Elindor

Disclaimer: These character's do not belong to me in any way, shape or form, with the exception of the storyline I've just put them in. I do not make any money off of this, so J.K. Rowling, WB Entertainment, and assorted publishing houses take note.

  
  


My legs gave out, and pain shot up my body as my knees crunched the linoleum. I could feel blood rushing out of my head, but to where it didn't seem evident. Hermione's father swung around the bed and, instead of helping me up, crouched down next to me. 'The machines are keeping her body going... we wanted to wait until you and Harry were here so you could... say good bye.' Hermione's mother let out another shrill cry. 'But her heart is still beating...' I pleaded. He shook his head. 'The machines are doing it. Once the machines stop...' he hiccuped and dropped his head on his knee. 

  


_But the hand had already gone limp and cold, bathed in the blood of my short triumph_.

  


I closed my eyes and I saw her dancing, not more than a week ago. Harry spinning and twirling her in our flat while I made dinner. Those curls bouncing like they could hear the music too. She looking back towards me, carefree and dizzy. And in all that, life rumbled in her belly. Had she known? Was she going to tell me tonight? 

  


'Come on, Harry.' I stood up abruptly and looked to the left to see Harry gently patting Hermione's head. I walked around the open door and pulled the folder of papers from the shelf attached. I scanned through the jargon, letters and numbers hitting me in unrecognizable combinations. Flipping papers, one after another, until I hit the doctor's notes. I let words like 'injury sustained' and 'organ failure' and set myself for one thing.

  


Pregnant- 7 weeks.

  


I slammed the folder shut and returned it back to its cubby. Harry looked at me questioningly, his green eyes ringed with sleep deprivation. I grabbed his hand and turned to Mr. Granger. 'Don't do anything... rash. We'll be back.' With that, I dragged Harry out of the room and down the corridor. When we reached the elevator and had safely got on, Harry turned to me. 'Ron... where are we going?' he asked as I punched the button for the lobby floor. 'Burrow,' I answered simply. 

  


That's were it would have to start. 

  


'Ron, you haven't been checked out the hospital yet. You can't just leave...' Harry began, hitting the 3rd floor button. 'Hermione's pregnant. 7 weeks.' Shock settled into Harry's face, his eyes suddenly taking up most of his face as he held a hand to his lips. The doors opened on the 3rd floor and then shut. When we reached the bottom floor, I pulled Harry, still silent, into the men's room. I looked under all the doors and, finding no one there, I closed my eyes. Like old hat, I felt my body slip from the stark white room.

  


The slight jolt of having floor returned under me sent me wobbling a bit, but Harry landing almost dead next to me sent me to the floor. He looked around for me, and then after looking down, sheepishly pulled me up. I didn't let go of his hand, but pulled him out of my room and down two flights of stairs. I walked past the landing and in through the door on the left. 

  


The lavender walls of Ginny's room were covered in photographs, some were taken in school and others were of professional-looking landscapes that she had purchased at several of Colin Creevey's shows. Ginny spun over in bed- she was asleep and both Harry and I froze in our tracks. I looked outside and realized that it was the dark blue outside that only appeared around 2 or 3 in the morning. I picked my steps carefully through the room, feeling along the wall for a bookcase. Light shown to my right 

  


_ A light of hope beamed a circular spot to the right of my outstretched body_

  


and in the beam of light I found Ginny's bookcase. Harry moved his wand over my shoulder as I ran my finger over all the titles. Stacks of Harlequin romances that Hermione would bring her, a few of Colin's photo books and the mother load. I pulled mediwitch book after mediwitch book and stacked them on the floor. After exhausting the mini-library, I almost tossed half the stack into Harry's arms and took the rest in mine. I flew upstairs and almost fell into my bedroom. I dropped the books on to my bed and watched Harry follow suit. 'What are we doing, Ron?' He asked, soundproofing the room at the same time. I picked up a book and held it at eye level. I closed my eyes and focused my mind. The book slipped from my hands and crashed to the floor. I opened my eyes and picked up the book. Page 436. Shoving the book into Harry's hands, I picked up another. 'We're finding a way to save the baby. Read the page it opened to.' The book I held dropped and fell open to page 32. 

  


We must have read for several days straight, book after book. Someone, probably Ginny, knocked on the door the morning we came to the Burrow, but Harry charmed the door soon after. I didn't hear what it was he said, but no one knocked on the door after. 

  


When we had exhausted Ginny's stash, we flooed to the medical library at the Hippocrates School of Medical Witchcraft and read there. Harry was just as voracious as I was, spinning through one book after another, often at times apparating to Muggle libraries for reference books. Neither of us had slept more than 3-4 hours at a time, and never were we asleep at the same moment. The library was crowded around us- it was the week before exams and lucky for us, tea and sandwiches were out at all hours for the mediwitch students. Both of us weren't up to leaving to eat, but the librarian took pity on us and occasionally brought us a couple of sandwiches when we went a long while without eating. 

  


Sometime after 2 in the afternoon on the 4th day of reading, I was poked awake. Harry slid a book under my nose and pointed to a paragraph. 'So, what do you think?' I read it over once, then again. 'We'll need Ginny to help. You call Hermione's parents on the fellytone and tell them not to do anything, I'll go talk to Ginny.' Harry snapped the book from under my nose and put it under his arm. 

  


I flooed home and knocked on Ginny's door. No answer. Without even a second thought, I apparated into Colin's apartment. Empty as well. I slid back to my room at the Burrow and ran downstairs, taking the steps four and five at a time. I skidded to a halt in front of the grandfather clock that overshadowed the living room. While every male arrow with the exception of my own was pointed to work, both Ginny, my mother's and Harry's pointed to hospital. I didn't even blink and I was there in the men's restroom, appearing suddenly behind a bloke washing his hands. He looked nonplused and I ran for the elevators. 

  


It didn't even occur to me then that Hermione's arrow on the clock was gone.

  


Colin cuddled Ginny against his body, the two of them piled into the uncomfortable wooden chair hidden behind the compressing machine. Mum stood on the far side of the bed, rubbing Mrs. Granger's back soothingly and crying silently. Something crashed headlong into the back of me and I flew into the foot of the bed, catching the edge and rolling to the ground. 'Oh God, sorry Ron. Didn't see you there,' Harry apologized and, taking my hand, pulled me to my feet. 'S'alright,' I shrugged and nearly flew forward into Harry as my mother tackled me from behind. She spun me around and pulled me into a fierce embrace. 

  


For the first time in 5 days, I relaxed and relished while she ran her hand over my back much like she had been doing with Hermione's mother. Then, without warning, she pulled me into the bathroom and slammed the door. 

  


'What nonsense have you been filling that poor woman's head with?' Her face was red with anger as I plopped down onto the toilet seat. 'Blazing out here like your broomstick's on fire? Telling her and her husband not to do anything rash? Not calling for 4 days? You've got them thinking you're on the search for some miracle cure, Ronald and you know perfectly well...' Mum's breath caught and she choked back a sob. 'Hermione's gone, dear. The only think keeping her heart beating are those contraptions those Muggle doctors have her hooked up to. All it is... is a shell. And to put false hope in her parents... that is excessively cruel,' Mum ripped a section of paper towel from the wall and blew her nose. 

  


_But the hand had already gone limp and cold_

  


'I know she's gone, Mum. I felt her just drift away. I was so close and I couldn't save her. I held her hand and I could feel her leave.' I could feel the tears trail down my cheeks. Mum took my hands in hers and squatted down in front of me, like she used to when she'd explain something complicated to me. 'Then let her go, Ronald. Let her rest. She doesn't deserve to be trapped in a room with all these machines attached to her. Let her go.' 'Didn't you hear me? She's already GONE!' I screamed, the words echoing off of the gleaming white tile. She looked at me with such sadness, such pain. Those brown eyes looking straight to my heart and crying. 'I just need...I just need a little time...' I muttered as I walked around her and ripped open the bathroom door. I brushed off the stares and walked over to the chair. 

  


'Ginny, I need to speak with you, now.' 

  


Colin reluctantly unlatched his arms from around her middle and Ginny walked tentatively towards me. Harry took a step forward, but I shook my head. If I wasn't going to be brave enough to ask this of my little sister, then Merlin knew it was going to be brown-trouser time when the hard stuff was actually going on. He pulled what looked like a small square of paper from his pocket and tapped it gently with his wand. The small leaf expanded into a two pages with the edges on one side frayed. 'You ripped it out of the book?' The book didn't try to rip his arm off or anything? 'Yeah. Dropped the book and ran- it was screaming it's head off,' Harry shrugged and handed me the two white sheets. I spun on my heels, took Ginny's hand and walked out of the room. 

  


I led her down the corridor away from the elevator into one of the doctor conference rooms that the wall signs had pointed to. After checking it was empty, I pulled Ginny inside and pointed to the door. 'Seal it,' I asked, for the first time in almost a week wondering where my wand had gotten to. She dutifully followed and then picked an under-stuffed chair to sit in. I pulled up opposite to her and heaved a deep breath. 'Hermione's pregnant,' I said simply, watching Ginny carefully. To my surprise, she looked shocked, her blue eyes going impossibly wide and teary. 'Oh Ron, I'm so sorry...' 

  


'Don't be,' I said, myself a bit disbelieving at the strength in my voice. She looked at me quizzically as I handed her the two pages Harry had ripped from the textbook. 

  


Her face, first scrunched in concentration, soon blossomed into happiness, and then abject horror. 'Hermione doesn't have any sisters, Ron,' she said quietly. I reached into my back pocket and pulled out the notes I had scribbled in the library. She took them and read them over ferociously. Her jaw dropped. 'But... Ron... you can't be seriously considering...' 

  


'Could you do it?'

  


She looked even more horrified. 'Ron, I'm only 18! And if that weren't enough, my body would probably reject the baby anyway. The amount of potions I would have to take to fool the baby into thinking I was Hermione...' I stopped her. 'My body wouldn't reject the baby,' I said simply. She took a step back, puzzled. 

  


'You?' 

  


'I've spent the last 4 days reading book after book...' 

  


'Ron! In case you've forgotten, you're a guy!' 

  


I waived my hand. 'I've seen it on Harry's telly. Doctors make boys into girls all the time. It's all about a bunch of pills and then they just nick of the willy and ta da!' Ginny's eyes bulged. 'You want to...' she looked strangely at me. 'Well, not the last bit, but why not the first bit? And in those books they said that sometimes women can have pregnancies that attach to the...' I ruffled through my pockets and pulled out a scrap of paper in Harry's pen, 'abdominal wall- it's called an... ectopic pregnancy. And then this book said that if mothers are having trouble delivering that you can cut a hole in the stomach and pull the baby out. And Harry found that potion, and in principle we should just be able to edit the potion.... ' 

  


'Ron, we can't be seriously having the conversation...' Ginny giggled nervously. I picked up the vase of flowers that was on the table next to my chair and threw it at the wall. It's blue glass shattered into a thousand pieces. 

  


'Damn it Ginny, I am being serious! What else can I do? Mum is in that room right now convincing the Grangers to pull the plug on that squishy, accordion thing and then she's dead Ginny. She's dead and that baby is dead and I can't save Hermione so you better damn well be sure I'm not losing the only thing I have left of her. You're the mediwitch, Ginny. Could you make the potion and do the spell?' 

  


The fire radiating from me was almost palpable. Ginny's pale skin began to pink up as she read the second of the two ripped out sheets of paper. 'You know I've never been good at charms, Ron. The potion, maybe I could do...' 

  


'I can do the charm.'

  


A voice piped up from the door behind me. I spun to find Harry, leaning on the door handle, the door slightly ajar. 'If you can do the potion Ginny, I can do the rest.' He smiled lopsidedly at me and shrugged. 

  


It hit me like a bludger to the chest, his words, and I couldn't stop myself pulling him into an embrace and kissing his cheek. 'Thank you, Harry,' I whispered in his ear and locked an arm around his shoulder, dragging him into the small room. 

  


Ginny wore a frown that I had seen on my mother's face countless times- the look that said 'don't encourage him'. 'I can't do this potion until the full moon and after that is takes 2 weeks to brew properly on top of the week you need to be under the potion before we can attempt anything and the Muggle drugs you are talking about? I don't know how I'm going to get a hold of them! You've got to convince the Grangers...' 

  


'Absolutely no problem!' I ran up and swung Ginny in my arms, pulling her into a great big hug. 'You are the best, thank you, thank you, thank you, Ginny!' When I had finished swinging her, she looked dizzy but, at long last, accepting. 'What about Mum, though?'

  


I honestly hadn't thought about that. Nor what Hermione's parents might think about this whole idea. But frankly, I couldn't care less. A father's got privilege and Hermione was past the age of legal adulthood, even in the Muggle world. This was going to happen.

  


Harry led me back to the room, Ginny following behind the both of us as we trekked back to Hermione's room. When we had reached the door, Harry pushed me from the door and opened it for Ginny. 'We'll be in there in a moment,' he said and closed the door. He turned to me and took in a deep breath. 'Ron...' he began, and then paused pensively in a how-to-put-this kind of way. 

  


'Are you sure this is what you want to do? Because I am behind you 100%, not even a question. But this isn't something to take lightly on a whim, this is a baby and you are moving into uncharted territory with this little experiment.' 

  


'I have a responsibility...' I began but he silenced me with a hand. 

  


'I'm concerned about you, Ron. You're still in shock, you haven't had more than 12 hours of sleep, tops, in the last week, and you've eaten less calories than an anorexic model before a fashion show. Are you sure you're in the right state of mind to make this kind of decision?' 

Harry had made some valid points. It amazed me that he actually stopped to question my judgement- it wasn't something either of us ever did. It should have made me furious. My body should have tensed up in preparation for verbal onslaught. But the urge never came.

  


'I'm probably not,' I answered, much to Harry's surprise as my own. 'Unfortunately, I don't have the luxury of consideration time, Harry.' He still looked at me worriedly. 'Cheer up, it might not work at all.' My attempt to inject slight humor into the situation was met with horror. 

  


'It's not like that at all! Of course I want this to happen!' Harry bellowed angrily. 

  


I put a hand on his shoulder. "I know, I know, it's just concern, relax. You're going to cause as scene,' I remarked. His body relaxed under my hand and he sighed. 'Can I go in now?' I asked. He rolled his eyes. He pulled the door open and gestured me in.

  


Colin had vacated his seat while I was gone- he was now propped up against the bathroom door, his arm around Ginny's shoulders. Mum was now folded up in the hospital chair, with Mr. and Mrs. Granger still near the window. I looked at the machines, beeping and squishing and charting their wavy lines- the only life line I had to her. 'I would have married her.' I ran my hand down her face and over her shoulder. Mrs. Granger placed her hand over mine and we remained that way, her hand reaching across the bed to cover mine. 

  


'We're going to try and save the baby.'

  


Ginny pulled away from Colin and put her hand over Mrs. Granger's and mine. 'We're going to try and save the baby,' Ginny repeated and Harry followed her over, putting a hand at the top of the pile. Mr. Granger came and rested his hands on his wife's shoulders, peering over her shoulder. 

  


'Keep her here for four more weeks. Keep the baby alive for four weeks, I beg you.' 

  


I could feel the tears rolling down my face as I said those words. 'Ron...' I snapped to look at Mum, who was rising from her seat. 'We can do it Mum. I know we can. I won't lose her without a fight.'

  


In the instant I waited from my mother to reply, a vision scurried across my consciousness. Honey eyes, framed by whisps of auburn hair, freckles dotting her nose. A yellow sundress. She looked just like her mother.

  


I had seen that look in my mother's eyes before. It was the look of someone who was about to watch a splinching and was powerless to stop it. Concern mixed with passive acceptance. The heat that usually flushed her face, the quick temper that I had most assuredly inherited, failed to rise. She broke her contact with my eyes and looked up to Mrs. Granger. 'Persephone, Alan... this is your call,' she said evenly. 

  


Mr. Granger rubbed his wife's shoulders comfortingly as he looked me up and down. I could feel that glare measuring my worth with the same efficiency and intelligence that Hermione studied a textbook. Every misdeed, every victory, every determinant in the equation of Ronald Weasley was studied and appraised with that look. I fought not to melt- I was a Gryffindor, damn it.

  


Mrs. Granger flipped her hand underneath the pile on Hermione's arm and grasped my hand tightly. She took her left hand and cupped my cheek. The warmth permeated me and I could feel the comfort that can only be doled out by a mother radiating from her palm like waves lapping at my feet. 

  


'I never pretended to understand the magic that Hermione lived by. I am not a natural scientist like her or her father- I accept things as they are and do not look for answers to questions that I can't readily comprehend. I do not know what plans you have, Ron. But I accept that you love my daughter, and that you will save my grandchild, and I don't need an answer to how.' 

  


She cracked a smile at mine. 'I however, would like detailed description of the procedure you will be attempting, with the precautions and potions you might be using along with possible complications.' Mr. Granger dared me to question him. I reached over Hermione and pulled Mrs. Granger into a fierce hug. I could feel Harry's hand patting me on the back and Ginny exhaling in relief. 

  


In the thin line of Hermione's lips, pressed together in a mockery of concentration, I could see a smile. I looked to the heavens- the tiled white ceiling sanitized to a dull sheen- and I could feel her shining down on me in those pocketed circles of light beaming like strained sunshine. I kissed her gently on the forehead and turned to look at my mother. Her smile didn't quite reach her eyes. She thought I was slowly going out of my head. Maybe I was.

* * *

  
  


Author's Notes: Well, now that you get the idea of the story, let me know what you think? After seeing the millionth MPREG story (the last straw was a BtVS story- not so much fun for Xander), I decided to try my hand at writing a serious one. And with my younger sister going through the phases of pregnancy (she's 5 months now), I can at least have some insight in to the wonderful world of childbirth. Thanks a bunch for reading and if you could submit what you think, I just might share my can of Dulce de Leche...


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